


Post-it dates

by soulofaminaanima



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fitzsimmons Secret Valentine, I wrote something?, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 18:03:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10037447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofaminaanima/pseuds/soulofaminaanima
Summary: So this gift is for my secret valentine: whatlighttasteslike.I hope you like it and it looks like something you had in mind! All mistakes are mine since I don’t know how to grammar and I read over spelling errors five times before spotting them:Prompt: A romantic/emotional work that explores what Fitz’s surprise was for Jemma (the one Radcliffe speaks of at the end of season 3).





	

*knockknock*  
“Yeah..coming.” Fitz mumbles around his last bite of breakfast. He knows he is late and if he can just put his plate in the sink before-  
*knock knock knock*  
“Coming!”  
Simmons walks in the moment he opens the door, wearing her hair in a high ponytail and her bag over her shoulder. She changed her clothes in the few hours they were just separated; her dark green blouse and tie match his pullover now.  
“Ready?” she asks him before moving over to sit on his bed.  
“Yeah just let me pack my bag.” He answers her, fully knowing that it will take more than that to get ready. He still needs to brush his teeth, comb his hair and find a pair of shoes from somewhere in the room. Thus why Simmons always waits sitting instead of standing by the door.  
“So you’re not ready?”  
“I would be ready if you just stopped showing up too early.”  
“You and I both know we can’t be late for-”  
“Vaughn is always late I don’t see why-”  
“And if you could just pack your stuff the night before-”  
And just like that, they’re already off for today. Most of the time Simmons is the first and the last person Fitz sees on a day, sometimes continuing a conversation like they never stopped talking. It feels weird sometimes having someone so close after having no one there for so long, but Fitz wouldn’t have it any other way.  
“It’s litteraly a five minute walk to class, you can’t expect me to prepare everything the night before if- Simmons?”  
Fitz turns around when she stops talking, knowing that she won’t rest her case that easily, even though it was an ever repeating conversation; Simmons never arriving later and Fitz never packing earlier.  
“What?” he asks her bluntly. His lab partner is staring at the bulletin board next to his roommate’s closet.  
“Have you seen what Cameron wrote here?” she is faced away from him, but he can literally hear her smirk. “Knowing it Cameron, it could be anything.” he answers, walking over to stand next to her.  
Complaining about his roommate was kind of unfair: Cameron was Fitz’s third roommate and record holder with eight months. Fitz’s first roommate left the Academy after the first semester for family reasons and Fitz could not say he missed him much. His second roommate was nice enough and they had some shared interest, but the guy still requested a transfer for their second year. His reasoning unclear but anyone on Fitz’s floor knows it couldn’t have been easy sharing a room with the grumpy Scotsman.  
Cameron, Fitz contemplated, was one of the good guys; never complained about the countless all-nighters, corrosive lab experiments, Fitz’s moods, or Simmons’ unannounced visits. Then again, his roommate had his own weird quirks. One of them was leaving post-it notes with his to do lists all over their room. The yellow notes decorated the walls and furniture and gave a good insight of Camerons daily life. It was kind of annoying, but Fitz accepted the small discomfort. And none of it would matter anymore once they graduated. Simmons and he had already applied for the Sci-Ops program and Cameron would move onto the helicarrier program in Seattle.

Fitz focuses his eyes upon one of the post it notes on the wall and read Cameron’s scribbling handwriting: “waterproof clothing, eggs, more pH paper, seven-”  
Simmons points to a note a little bit to the left. Then she lowers herself to the ground and starts rummaging through her backpack while he reads the note:  
“Jessica Friday DATE!!!: – Movies – Pub – or Steve’s BBQ grill – Y&S comics store–???”  
“So Cameron finally asked Jessica out on a date? Good for him, shall we go now?” Fitz is ready to walk to the door but Simmons did not follow. ‘Simmons, what are you doing?”  
“Believe me, I’m doing this for his own good.” Simmons answers courtly.  
“Uhm… What?”  
She keeps rummaging through her bag, clearly looking for something.“I know for one that Jess has been waiting for Cameron to ask her out for over a month. And if THIS is all he can think about for their first date? Believe me, I’m just helping out a friend.”  
She stands up with a pen in her hand, apparently ready to improve Camerons list with her own ideas.  
“Please don’t tell me you would take your first date to a comic store, Fitz.” She answers when she sees his puzzled expression. Her tone is one she only uses when he does something really improvident. It’s the ‘I can’t believe it’ voice that always accompanies fifty reasons why his idea won’t work.  
“Well, it’s not my favorite activity, but Cameron likes it.” His attempt to defend himself fails miraculously if the look Simmons gives him is anything to go by.  
“Yes, but what about Jessica? Do you think any girl would agree to a first date to a comic store?”  
“Ok, maybe not most girls, but it could be something American? Going to a steak house and visiting a comic store.”  
If Fitz was honest, he was still reeling from culture shock himself sometimes. He’d gotten accustomed to the American ways of living on most aspects, but dating was not one of them.  
“Fitz, Jessica is a vegetarian. And Canadian. I don’t like stereotyping people, but you’ve got to admit-”  
“That Cameron could use some help, yes.”  
Fitz keeps quiet while she tears the old note from the wall and starts writing. She crosses “comic store” off, immediately. Instead, she ads:  
“Dinner ‘At the corner’ (falafel burgers!), picknick, botanical garden, that bird watching preserve, movie: a romantic one, not your latest sci-fi obsession!”  
Simmons looks up questioningly when he scoffs, but Fitz can’t help it. Did she really just call the most anticipated movie of the whole year an obsession? It was way more than that.  
“You know, that one does actually have a romantic storyline.” he starts with his own ‘I can’t believe it’ tone. He mostly uses it when Simmons becomes a little bit too creative with her solutions.  
“Oh Fitz! Saving the captured love interest is not a romantic plot, it’s a way to motivate the protagonist-”  
“But then why would they create said love interest in the first place if they don’t plant to-”  
“And it’s just a way to excuse all the damage the hero inflicts-”  
“So now you’re saying the damage is-”

They enter Vauhns classroom five minutes late, still discussing the importance of a romantic interest of a movie they had never seen and were never about to do so.  
—  
Fitz wakes up to sunlight peeking through the blinds, hitting his pillow and partly blinding him. The room is surrounded in the soft golden light, everything is still and quiet, the only sound being their breathing. He lifts his head just a little, checking their alarm clock: Still forty five minutes before it goes off, signaling the start of their day. Plenty enough time to turn around and go back to sleep. He settles back on his pillow, but keeps his eyes open. Refusing to return to.. what was the dream about?  
Jemma is still asleep, the early morning light touching her face. Her hair seems to be glowing, surrounded by a golden halo of light. Her eyelashes are dark, make-up just partly removed. (There were other interesting things to do yesterday evening, okay?)  
She’s beautiful.  
And Fitz is still amazed he gets to wake up with her every morning. If someone would’ve told him about this feeling ten years ago, he’d laugh at them right in their face. If there was a way for himself to go back in time, he’d slap that laugh right off his own face, convince his younger self to just look for a moment at what is right in front of him.  
He does not know what it is, but something- his breathing pattern maybe- has woken up Jemma. She’s always been highly alert to mood changes Fitz never felt to begin with, but it’s still early and all she gives away is a tentative smile. It’s enough to make him want to kiss her and he does so. He can feel her smile widening against his lips.  
“Good morning,” He stage whispers, “did I wake you?”  
“No, why would you think that?” She whispers back. She’s blinking against the light, her eyes focusing in on the open blinds. She stares at them for a moment and Fitz can pinpoint the moment her thoughts accept the early awakening with an okay, why not.  
“Couldn’t go back to sleep?” She prompts. Her question brings him back to the dream he had before waking up. It’s already slipping away, but he still remembers parts of it. Something about Cameron and his thousand post-it notes…and a comic store? Fitz is actually pretty sure it was a memory and not just a random dream. He just can’t place it in a time frame, except for somewhere in their last year at the academy.  
“Do you remember Cameron?” he asks instead, not sure what else to ask. They’ve been growing back to their almost uncanny ability to read each others minds, but Fitz knows asking for her to pluck a fading dream right out of his head is a bit much to ask.  
“Of course. Your roommate record holder.” Fitz smiles at her nickname for the guy, knowing that Jemma kept tabs on his roommates and was ready to give Cameron some kind of prize when they graduated. Fitz stopped her right before she bought some kind of expensive miniature plane.  
His main reason was keeping his pride intact; Simmons would’ve included an embarrassing ‘Thank you for keeping my lab partner alive!’ -note. That..and the fact that Cameron would’ve turned the plane in a weapon with communication jammers and lasers and whatnot.  
“Do you know if he… you know.” Fitz regrets the question immediately. Even now, talking about Hydra is difficult. Jemma smiles weakly, knowing exactly what he’s not asking.  
“He was assigned at the Triskellion when Hydra came out of hiding. He’s on our side. Coulson couldn’t tell me more, but I think that means he’s okay.” Fitz visibly relaxes by this point. Knowing his old roommate was at the Triskellion when everything turned south is hard to hear. The Triskellion got completely destroyed beyond repair. Many lives were lost, both Hydra and SHIELD. But Cameron not being Hydra does ease something inside Fitz that had been nagging at him since he woke up this early morning.  
They’re silent for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Jemma doesn’t push him for more information and Fitz asks no more questions he might not want to hear the answers to. Sometimes, not knowing what side their old friends ended up being is far better than feeling the loss that accompanies said knowledge. Dead or Hydra seem to be the only two answers and Fitz honestly can’t tell what answer he dreads most.  
So they silently wait for the sound of the alarm clock, just basking in each others presence. Almost close enough to touch, but content to just feel the warmth of the other being near.  
They get up slowly and cross the base to get breakfast in the communal kitchens. It’s still early and the halls are empty. Jemma’s hand reaches for is and he happily folds them together, a little bit suprised. It’s not often they do this outside their rooms. Not that anyone would be surprised as they walk hand in hand, but maybe they’re both too self-conscious to do it in a crowded room just yet.  
“Did you know Cameron and Jessica are still together?” Jemma stars out of nowhere.  
“Are they?”  
“Yes, Jessica is part of the field team in El Salvador Coulson made contact with when we just got to this base. They were working on the resilience from the local birds to certain venom and poisons. She promised him to send some flower seedlings and feathers…”  
And that, just the mention of the fauna in El Salvador brings back the rest of the dream from this morning. All Fitz can do is smile while they walk to the kitchen, already forming a plan in his head.  
—  
“So are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?” Jemma asks him for the second time that day. She doesn’t sound annoyed- yet-, just very curious and a little bit worried.  
“Nope,” he answers almost gleeful, popping the ‘p’ while he stares out of the window of the train. “What’s the fun in that?” The landscape is blurring past them, only the green mountains in the distance stay long enough to focus upon. “But you can guess if you want.”  
She ignores him for a few miles, staring outside too. It’s familiar, but weird; what was the last time they’ve used a train as transportation middle? Fitz refused to use a quinjet, wanting to do something normal for once. Just a couple in the train, traveling to places before they’re declared a war zone instead of after.  
They do look the picture; Jemma in an old floral printed blouse he didn’t know she still had. Himself, in a dark green jumper over a white blouse. Even their sturdy working shoes have been switched out for casual sneakers.  
“So..have we been there before?” It takes him a second to realize she is actually quessing their destination.  
“No, we have not.”  
“But, we’ve talked about going?” her voice sounds hopefull, knowing it will be a helpful hint.  
“Hmm, sort off. It was a long time ago, maybe not really.” he dodges her question.  
“I’ll take that as a no. Ehm… Is it a place on my Vacation Wish List?”  
“What isn’t a place on your list?” again, answer diverted. He can see she knows what he is doing, but it is way too funny to stop.  
“Okay, fair point. Is it a place on your Vacation Wish List?”  
That was an easier question, since his list had been not even half as long as hers. Maybe it became longer after he heard Jemma talk about all the amazing places she’d wanted to visit. But it was still short.  
“Not really…”  
“ Uh, Fitz! This game will only work if you give me something to go by.” she sounds almost annoyed. He loves it, knowing that bickering with her won’t lead to real fights anymore.“But it is an answer!” he laughs.  
“Yes, a political correct answer, that is.” She shakes her head and then grabs for his hands, holding them in hers. She moves forward on her stool. “Let me try something different then.” she smirks.  
“Have you, Leo Fitz, picked this unknown place based upon any Vacation wish list you know?” She mimics agent Koening’s way of interrogating people. It’s a very bad imitation too. But Fitz wouldn’t know how to start his lie now, staring into her shining amber eyes. A smile breaks Jemma’s semi-serious expression when she notices she has him cornered.  
But Fitz is not giving up their destination that easily. So he does the only logical thing as he stares into her eyes that are way to close. He kisses her as a distraction and hopes the train will find their destination before he runs out of breath.  
The wait was all worth it in the end:  
“Fitz! Fitz don’t move.”  
“Please don’t tell me one is right behind me.”  
Jemma bites her lip, trying to keep herself from squealing, and nods.  
“Let me guess,” he sighs dramatically. “Is it the small orange one again?”  
“The Neophemachrysogaster yes. I think she likes you.”  
Taking Jemma on a date to a bird park has been his best idea so far. Fitz wishes he could have filmed the moment of realization when she saw the sign post with ‘Bird & Botanical’. She knew immediately where Fitz had found the idea.  
“Don’t move, I’ll try to get her on your shoulder.”  
“Jemma, we’re not here to smuggle parrots back to the base.”  
She still tries, of course. The parrot in question has been following them around for the last ten minutes around the feeding aviary. Long enough for Jemma to find out what kinds of fruit she likes.  
“Do you think Coulson would let us keep one?” she asks him while she draws the small piece of mango closer and closer to them. Jemma herself is standing pretty close too, but Fitz doesn’t mind. At all. Maybe they are getting used to this new closeness.  
“If you say it’s for a science experiment, then yes.” They could probably start their own bird aviary in the empty and unused labs. Maybe not as big as the one they’re standing in right now; there are at least fifty small parrots flying around their heads. And since the park is fairly deserted for a Saturday, the couple scientist are the only two ‘bird feeders’ in the surrounding.  
“Your work in two unpronounceable fields is very complicated after all, so just throw in a few big words and you should be fine.” he continues with a smile.  
“Maybe we should start with something more basic.” And with a small hop, the Neophemachrysogaster perches on his shoulder. It takes him a few seconds to respond, too busy with the little nails digging in. “You want a dog?”  
“That will be difficult with walking on base. A cat-”  
“Will have the same problems and just the sleeping quarters aren’t big enough. And can you imagine all the hair on our projects? Juck!” Fitz can see a brightly colored spot moving out of the corner of his eye. In less than a second, the little bird is gone, taking the piece of mango with her. She clearly liked the fruit more than their company.  
“So a turtle-” Jemma mumbles.  
“No, not now Yoyo is visiting the base – and thus Mack- more frequently.”  
“That animal is kind of cursed when it is immediately linked with their flirting.”  
“Do you think they’ll get together?”  
“Probably. It does make me wonder how long  
They spend the rest of the day sauntering the park, walking around three more bird aviary’s with different birds as they go. Fitz finds some nice feathers on the ground and Jemma takes lots of pictures of the different birds. They share their lunch in the botanical garden that accompanies the animal voliéres, a flair of lavender hanging around their picnic table.  
They should have done this way earlier, Fitz thinks as he picks and throws pieces of his lunch at the pigeons. “You can have your fancy parakeets, so I can take a pigeon back home.”  
“You’re going to collect a whole army if you keep sharing all of your lunch with them.” And yes, more pigeons land nearby as Fitz throws away more of their lunch. He turns to her with a witty comeback, but his answer gets stuck in his throat when he sees her smile.  
Jemma is still staring at the birds that collect around their table, her expression something he had not seen a for a while. Mirth, that’s is. After everything that’s happened, the last two, three years, it are the pigeons that bring back the smile he missed so much.  
“Well, I think you are the one who is trlly impressed by them.” He answers her instead. “And here am I, taking you on an amazing date to see some very expensive and colourful birds-”  
“And the birds we end up feeding are the city pigeons.” Jemma finishes for him.  
“So, what now?” Jemma asks him later while they walk back to the entrance of the park.  
“You ready for part two?”  
“That depends, is it far?”  
“Hmm..maybe.” She hits him lightly before the continue walking down the road.  
—–  
Their table is fairly hidden in the back of the restaurant, Fitz opting something a bit more secluded over one of the flashy tables in the middle of the room, the opted preference for both of them.  
“Very gentlemanly.” Jemma comments as he moves her chair for her.  
“You know me.” Fitz answers her. When did they start flirting this heavily? Fitz honestly can’t remember, but somewhere along this day they switched gears. He can see it in the looks Jemma keeps giving, clearly impressed by him.  
“Always the romantic one.” He says while he pours them both a glass of water. The wine chart will probably be handed over in a minute, or so. Their waiter arrives within minutes, offering them suggestions as they order.  
Jemma’s leg is bumping into his under the table, her ankle moving up and down in slow and fleeting movements. It’s kind of distracting him from the conversation at hand. She must know what it is doing to him, but decided that she doesn’t care. All he can do is stare at her while she pointedly ignores him.  
Oh well, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t been planning on getting there tonight.


End file.
